


The Hollow Wind

by glim



Series: pthon 2014 [4]
Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Canon Era, Community: summerpornathon, Established Relationship, Homesickness, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Sharing Clothes, Team Gluttony
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-19
Updated: 2014-08-19
Packaged: 2018-02-13 21:04:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 742
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2165148
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/glim/pseuds/glim
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <em>Arthur shivers when the wind stings his eyes and nose; for the first time since they left, he wishes for the hot, overcrowded banquet hall in the castle at Mercia. </em>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Hollow Wind

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Summer Pornathon 2014 Challenge Four: Tropesmash. (Tropes smashed: hurt/comfort and clothes sharing.)

They are three hours away from Camelot when the rain finally ends. A thin, icy wind takes its place, whistling through the trees at the edge of the forest. Arthur shivers when the wind stings his eyes and nose; for the first time since they left, he wishes for the hot, overcrowded banquet hall in the castle at Mercia. 

Standing at the edge of the clearing, Arthur crosses his arms against the wind and watches as his men pitch camp. They only need enough space to set up their tents and some protection from the wind. 

Arthur doesn't turn when he hears footsteps approach, though he smiles when a hand rests on his shoulder. 

"It was the right choice." Merlin squeezes his shoulder, and though he's sure he's imagining it, Arthur feels body heat through his armor. "Everyone's worn out from the storm. You look so tired," he adds, quietly. 

Arthur replies with a frown, clenching his jaw against another shiver. All he wants is to curl into Merlin's side, to close his eyes and feel Merlin's hand move from his shoulder to the base of his back, to have Merlin pull him near and, when he opens his eyes, to find them standing in the pool of yellow candlelight in his private apartments. 

"Go see that my squire's set up my tent properly, then see to the horses. And get some dinner for yourself. There should be something hot."

Merlin's hand moves from his shoulder to his back, but disappears before Arthur is tempted to move into the touch. Merlin nods before he leaves, a little crease between his eyebrows, and Arthur knows he must look worse than tired. 

By the time his walk through the campsite leads him to his own tent, Arthur certainly feels worse than tired. The shivering seems to come over him with each gust of wind and there is an odd, cold emptiness inside him that he has not yet been able to name, but that he knows is related to the hollowness he hears when anyone addresses him as 'king.' It is his father's title, and like the king's quarters in Camelot, it feels too big and too empty for Arthur to inhabit. 

The tent he's had set up instead of the royal pavillion is warm enough, however, and Merlin's made up what looks less like a camp-bed and more like a pile of random blankets and rugs in the corner.

Arthur braces himself against another case of the chills as Merlin helps him out of his armor, then hides his face in Merlin's shoulder when he cannot help but shiver at the feel of the cool air against his damp skin. 

"I wanted to get home tonight."

"I know," Merlin says, lips pressing to Arthur's hair. He rubs his hands up and down Arthur's arms, then tugs him over the to the bed. "Let's get some rest." 

The bed really _is_ just a tumble of blankets--Merlin's hardly bothered to do much else--but the warmth and the closeness are soothing. Familiar, Arthur thinks, and noses into the hollow of Merlin's throat. 

He wraps himself around Merlin, chest to chest and groin to groin, until his world dwindles down to this one space. Merlin kisses Arthur's ear, sighs, and kisses him again. The gesture is small and intimate, and it's enough. 

Arthur presses in closer, suddenly and desperately aroused. He doesn't wait for Merlin to react, but slides one hand down Merlin's side to grip his thigh and hold him tight. Their bodies fit together just right, with just enough room to slide against his each other and to gasp kisses against each other's lips. 

Arthur brings Merlin off first, so he can hold Merlin even closer, can feel his body go relaxed and pliant, can shudder against him and burrow himself so close after he comes that he is wrapped up in Merlin's scent. 

*

Arthur watches the camp come alive at sunrise. The next morning is clear, bright and cold, the world scrubbed clean by yesterday's wind and rain.

Merlin comes to stand with him after dressing, then reaches his arms around Arthur's shoulders. "Here," he says, tying his scarf around Arthur's neck and tucking it into his tunic. "This will keep you warm until we get back to Camelot." 

The scarf isn't particularly comfortable, but it reminds Arthur of the nest of blankets and the soft scent of Merlin's skin upon waking.


End file.
